Déjà vu
by Melrose Stormhaven
Summary: A.U. 1 x R. Heero, Hilde, Duo are vampire hunters sent undercover to a small town. Heero’s cover is working in a bookshop, and Duo suggests they decorate the store for the holiday season. And where does Relena enter in the story? Read to find out!
1. Déjà vu part 1

**Disclaimer:** Gundam Wing is not mine. Bandai owns it. Bow to them, you fools! sorry, too much sugar

**Author's notes:** sigh I couldn't stay away from this one. It's been so long since I wrote for hetero audiences. Anyway, this two-part is a **prequel/teaser** of sorts to an upcoming AU 1 x R fic of mine, _Crimson Drowning_. If the title hasn't clued you in, it's about vampires and vampire hunters. Yes, I am a vampire fan. No, I'm not a vampire.

**Pairings:** Heero x Relena and slight Duo x Hilde.

**Warnings:** **Lemony-lime in next part**. And fluff. (OMG. I wrote fluff! I've never written fluff!)

**Summary:** A.U. Heero, Hilde, Duo are vampire hunters sent undercover to a small town. Heero's cover is working in a bookshop, and Duo suggests they decorate the store for the holiday season. And where does Relena enter in the story? I guess you'll have to read to find out. Oh, this is mostly done in Heero's POV.

Anyways, just a note, the town where the story is set it has an unusual statue in the public park. It's a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel–an angel with a scythe and dark wings.

For **Caliborn** and **Andrea**, my UA co-conspirators! huggles Cali and Andrea

**Andrea:** Does this mean I'll get my plushie?

**Melrose:** Yeah. Yeah.

**Déjà vu part 1**

_When sunlight glows upon the flowers,_

_Or ripples down the dancing sea:_

_Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,_

_Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me._

_Within the breath of autumn woods,_

_Within the winter silences:_

_Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,_

_O Master of impieties!_

_The ardor of red flame is thine,_

_And thine the steely soul of ice:_

_Thou poisonest the fair design_

_Of nature, with unfair device._

_**---Excerpts from The Dark Angel, by Lionel Jackson**_

Snow and darkness have fallen over the town of St. George.

While most people would watch the millions of glittering snowflakes fall sitting on a comfortable chair near the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate or warmed cider, Heero sat in a tall, weathered, old stool in a cold, dark corner of the cashier's booth, slowly sipping his coffee, made the way he liked it–black, with just a tiny hint of cinnamon in it.

Beyond his frosty picture window, the world was white, gray, and black, the monotony broken only by the blinking Christmas lights Duo had installed earlier, their red glow casting crimson shadow_s _on the pristine snow.

_White, gray, black, and red. The colors of truth and justice, the colors of life and death._

And at the public park several meters from his bookstore, the maiden continued her eternal struggles from the angel, whose unyielding grip still held her prisoner in a cold embrace.

"How long are you going to sit there, stare at the window and drink coffee while thinking happy thoughts, Heero?"

Eyes narrowing into tiny slits of blue ice, Heero cocked his head to his side to find Duo grinning at him. Duo had a wreath of hollies and evergreens about his neck. Beside him, Hilde was busy stringing popcorn into a garland to be wound around the Christmas tree, the popcorn that Duo had been steadily filching and eating until Hilde jabbed the back of his hand with her needle.

"Ow! Hilde!" He clutched his hand, wincing at the sight of blood. "I'm bleeding!"

"Stop eating the popcorn, Duo," she said, not bothering to look up. "If you don't stop eating the popcorn, I'm going to cut off your braid." She held up her scissors, the sharp blades gleaming wickedly in the light. "I'm sure I could find a lot of ways to turn it into a decoration."

Duo's hand immediately flew to this long, thick braid and held it as far away from Hilde and her sharp scissors as he could manage. "Not the braid. Don't touch the braid."

Heero watched their antics with a dispassionate eye. What had possessed him to allow Hilde and Duo to decorate the bookstore for Christmas he'd never know. He had not observed Christmas since his parents were murdered fifteen years ago. Only once.

"_I know you don't like Christmas, but, if you'd like…could you spend Christmas with me? I'd really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero."_

His grip on his mug tightened for a moment, knuckles turning white, and then he relaxed. It was an old memory, it couldn't harm him anymore. He absently tugged the too-tight sleeves of his worn cream-colored sweater, and then stopped when Duo shouted.

"And look what we have here!" Duo crowed. In Duo's hand was a medium-sized sprig of mistletoe. Duo smiled slyly at Hilde. "I didn't think you'd get one of these. If you really wanted to kiss me–"

"Another word and the braid gets it." She eyed the mistletoe warily. "I didn't get that when I went shopping for the decorations. The old man at the store must have put in with my purchases."

"Sure." Duo's grin grew wider. "I wonder why he did that, though."

Snatching the mistletoe from Duo's hand, Hilde studied it for a moment, staring at its leathery green leaves and sticky white berries. "Professor D talked about the mistletoe once. It's a symbol of fertility. She says it's a very sinister plant, though. It's a parasite, its berries are poisonous, and according to Norse myths, a part of the mistletoe was used in the arrow that killed the white god Baldur."

"Really? Didn't know that. Maybe I could write an article about it. Come on," Duo urged, taking the mistletoe from her hands with a sharp tug. "Let's hang it on the beam near the door. Then everyone who goes into the store has to kiss!"

"Oh, Duo," Hilde said, exasperated. "If it makes you happy, just hang it and be done with it."

"Aren't you going to help me?"

"Do you really want me to hurt you?"

Laughing, Duo turned to Heero. "What about you, Heero? Don't you want to help me hang this? I'd give you a kiss if you do."

"Don't be absurd, Maxwell." Heero glanced at the mistletoe just once, then turned back to watch the snow. His fingers tightened their grip on the mug again. Old memories.

Duo sighed mournfully. "Can't you take joke even on Christmas Eve? And my name is Duo, not Maxwell. Why do you keep calling us by our last names?" When Heero didn't reply, Duo sighed again. "Fine. Be Mr. Scrooge. Don't blame me if your ghosts come haunting back."

"Don't press your luck," Hilde warned, flicking a quick glance at Heero.

Sniffling, Duo went to the front door, took a chair to stand on, climbed on it, and hung the mistletoe on one of the wooden beams. "There. It doesn't seem right though. I'm supposed to kiss someone under the mistletoe."

"You could kiss the chair," Hilde said with a straight face. She looked at mistletoe. "Professor D also said something about that tradition. We have it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it."

Heero glanced sharply at her. Something about her words seemed familiar, somehow. As if he'd heard them before.

The memory came to him, sharp and unbidden. He was eighteen again, in that bookstore near his high school that he always went to after classes were over.

_He found Relena among the tall, dusty, bookshelves, idly looking at the books. The gnarled, kindly old owner who always greeted Heero whenever he came in was nowhere in sight. Looking around, he saw that the old man had put up various Christmas decorations, with the wreath of hollies and pine hung on the window and the Christmas tree by the cashier's booth. _

_They were shopping for Christmas gifts, or more accurately, Relena was. "It's tradition," she had said when Heero scowled at the thought of shopping. "And traditions must always be observed."_

_Heero had thought of the gift he was going to give her soon, something that had nothing to do with Christmas. He had bought it because it was tradition to give that gift, so he supposed Relena was right that traditions must always be observed._

"_I've always wondered where you spent your time after school," she said as she pulled out one leather-bound book and carefully leafed through the brittle yellow pages. The books in the store were mostly old, antique of sorts, fragile to touch; yet, the old man never discouraged people from browsing through the pages. "You always seemed lonely, but you didn't look the type who spent his hours doing nothing." _

"_You wondered where I spent my afternoons?" Heero asked, puzzled._

_Relena made a face, and then laughed. "Of course! I was very interested with whatever you're doing. I've been watching you for a while. God, I sound like a stalker."_

_Heero almost smiled. If Relena knew how long he's been watching and observing her these past months, she would think _he _was the stalker in their relationship._

"_Ah, you're here. As expected," a dry voice said from behind one of the shelves. An old, wrinkled man, stepped out, and looked at Heero with a smile. It was the owner. He frowned a little when he saw Relena. "Well, this is unexpected. You always come here alone, and Miss Relena's usually much earlier."_

_Relena blushed as Heero stared at her. "You've been here?" Relena had not mentioned anything about coming here at all._

"_You're not the only one who likes old books in this town," she retorted. "Besides, didn't I say I was very interested?"_

"_Miss Relena is my best customer," the old man chimed in, smiling at them. "She buys five or so books every visit." _

"_I thought I was your best customer," Heero muttered under his breath. Relena giggled, ignoring the scowl on his face. She turned to the old man, and said, "Mr. Pagan, do you have any books on folklore and the occult? I tried looking for it at the library, but apparently a puritanical librarian burned some of them in a fit of misguided religious 'purging' of the library of 'heretical' books."_

_Heero glanced at Relena in surprise at her choice of books. Pagan nodded sympathetically. "Ah. I remember now. I heard Miss Khusrenada was confined in a hospital for that. Tragic, really. She was a wonderful woman. It was that husband of hers. But I digress. Wait here." Murmuring to himself, he went over to the back of the store._

"_What will you need the books on the occult for?" Heero asked as soon as Pagan was out of earshot. Heero knew Relena had a passion for folklore and mythology, but this was the first time he heard her on the occult._

"_For research," she said simply. She laughed when she saw the expression on his face. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to be a witch or anything. It's just for research."_

_He relaxed, and gave her a small smile. "Looking for Necronomicon?"_

"_Stop teasing. You know as well as I do that the Necronomicon was a mythical book made famous by Aleister Crowley and by H.P. Lovecraft. There is no evidence that it exists at all."_

"_Ah, here they are!" Pagan announced. Cradled in his arms were three, thick, black books, topped by two small, thin ones. He carefully laid them on the counter table. _

_Relena took one of the thick black books in her hand, and ran a finger on its dusty, leathery cover. When she was about to open it, Pagan's hand shot out and grabbed her wrists. "Careful," he said, looking at Relena's surprised face. "According to my source these books, covers and pages, are made out of human skin. The ink, apparently, is of human blood. Books like this are quite fragile to handle. Human skin doesn't really age and hold ink very well." Pagan looked very solemn as he spoke._

_Heero's own skin crawled. But Relena appeared unperturbed, and opened the book without hesitation. She flipped through the pages rapidly, and all Heero could see was a reddish-brown blur of writings and drawings. Then she shut it with a dull thud. "How much?" Relena asked._

"_Relena…" Heero began, "you can't buy that. They're made of human–" _

_To his annoyance, Relena and Pagan both laughed. "Oh, Heero. Don't be like that. Pagan's just kidding. Of course they aren't made of human skin. They're just your run-of-the-mill spell books and treatises on the occult. Completely harmless." She grinned at Pagan, then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. "He's a very serious person, isn't he? No sense of humor at all."_

"_I heard that."_

"_I know." She flashed him a smile, and then faced Pagan. She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed him her credit card. "I'm taking them all."_

_Pagan took the card. "Will I also be including here the reservations you made last week?"_

"Yes. They're for Christmas gifts." She flickered a quick glance over her shoulder at Heero, looking just a little guilty of something. Heero frowned at her, puzzled, but she only gave him her most charming smile as an answer. Then her expression changed, and she looked serious.

"_I know you don't like Christmas, but, if you'd like…could you spend Christmas with me? I'd really like to spend Christmas with you, Heero."_

Heero stared at her for a moment. Christmas. He had observed Christmas since his parents were killed. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.

But looking at Relena, standing before him, a pleading expression in her blue eyes, he found that he could not refuse.

Heero grunted, then shrugged. "Fine. I'll be there." It took his breath away when he saw her reaction. Relena's eyes widened, and her lips parted as if to say something, then she smiled, her whole face brightening with joy. "Thank you," she finally said, glancing away when Pagan loudly cleared his throat to hand her the receipt.

_After a few minutes, the books properly packed and bundled, Heero (who was carrying the books despite Relena's protests) and Relena walked towards the door to leave. He took her hand in his, which made her jump a little. He had never taken her hand in public before. She knew Heero wasn't up to much public displays of affection._

But before they could leave, Pagan called out, "Aren't you two going to kiss under the mistletoe?" He pointed at a sprig of mistletoe tied on one of the beams above them.

"Oh." Relena blushed. "Oh." She looked at Heero. Heero scowled again, but didn't let go of her hand. "We don't have to do it. It's a silly custom, anyway. We even got it wrong. The correct way to kiss under the mistletoe is to kiss underneath it while plucking one of the berries. When all the berries are gone, there will be no more kissing underneath it. And–"

"_Relena?" Heero said, leaning over, stopping Relena in her babbling._

"_What?"_

_He kissed her. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, a mere brush of lips, but the touch of heat it gave warmed Heero more than anything today. And as he kissed her, he plucked a berry from the mistletoe._

_When the kiss was over, Relena gave him a dazed look, face impossibly red. It would be the first time Heero kissed her in front of other people. Heero decided he liked Relena looking that way, and he should do this more often. "What was that for?" she asked. _

"_Traditions must always be observed," Heero said blandly. Tugging her arm, he gave the smiling Pagan a brief nod before he all but dragged a still-dazed Relena away._

"Speaking of professors, are you talking about the one who teaches the popular folklore course at the university?" Duo's loud voice cut through Heero's thoughts, forcing him back to the present.

Hilde nodded. "Yes. Professor D."

"Professor D? What kind of name is that? D is short for what? Professor Dracula?"

"Dracula's a guy," Hilde snapped. "She's not."

"Oooh. Aren't we being nasty?" Duo muttered under his breath. "Speaking of the university, did you find out when the blade's going to arrive?"

Hilde shook her head. "No. Not yet, but I'm working on it." She let out a sigh. "The security's tough on that one. Everyone's tight-lipped about the details on the blade."

"I could hack into their computers."

"You can. But I don't think they put any details on the blade in the computer."

The blade. That was part of the reason they were here. Heero didn't understand why they kept on referring to it as 'the blade'. It was an antique sword with a Toledo blade dating back to the time of the Crusades. What made it more special than most was that the sword once belonged to Vlad Dracul, Prince of Wallachia. Legend has it that before he rode to his final battle, he sent a vassal to give the sword to his son and heir, the then future Prince of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes, more popularly known as Dracula, Lord of the Vampires.

For years, the sword was thought to be lost, like most Dracula relics, but recently, news of its existence came to light. Though no further details were publicly released, a quiet investigation led to St. George's University's Center for Folklore Studies, a small university in New England, where the sword was to be donated to them anonymously, and will be in the Center's museum for display after it has been studied and authenticated.

Apparently, some vampire clans had expressed interest on the sword, and were more that willing to steal and kill for it. They were sent here to make sure the vampires didn't end up killing or turning anyone, and if possible, take a look at the sword.

"I didn't think the vamps could be so sentimental about the sword," Duo muttered.

"The sword belongs to _Dracula_. The last of the Draculs will be more than willing to kill anyone to get that blade back to his hands. He is the rightful owner of the blade, being the last of Dracula's line." Heero said, startling the two when he spoke. "Whether they get the blade or not is not our concern. Our mission here is to make sure the vampires don't kill anyone."

Duo grunted and glanced outside. "Well, I don't think we'll worry about any vampires attacking people in the streets. They're empty nowadays. Looks like everyone's staying inside tonight. Again."

The streets were empty, which was unusual. The streets were never empty during these hours. Before the holiday break, there were still an odd group of drunken students stumbling on the snow-covered road on their way to their apartments or dormitories, singing happily in off-key voices or the occasional neighborhood kids having snowball fights.

Heero and his team had arrived here just a few weeks ago, and for most part, they saw nothing suspicious. It was relatively quiet town, despite having a university in it. Duo joked that it must be because the university offered 'boring' degrees, like anthropology and archeology, and thus attracted the more sedate and 'nerdy' of students. Only the statue of a young woman dressed in flowing robes, caught in the embrace of an angel–an angel with a scythe and dark wings–proved to be unusual…and a little disturbing.

Lately, people have been staying in their houses during the night and mornings, even with Christmas approaching. Heero had expected the clichéd traditions of the Christmas season: the carol singers, frantic shoppers and the equally frantic shopkeepers, the occasional Santa Claus, but so far the town have chosen to observe Christmas with a silent, foreboding air of solemnity.

Duo glanced outside again. "Maybe the street's empty because it's Christmas Eve. The students are already home for the holidays or sunbathing in some sunny tropical island like Hawaii. The neighborhood kids are with their families, having Christmas Eve dinner."

"We still don't have any proof of vampiric activity in this place. Except for the two cases of tuberculosis in the hospital, nothing untoward has happened recently. I don't know why we bothered coming here anyway." Duo had wanted to stay in New York City, where he had a job in the _NY Times_. Now he was reduced to working in the local newspaper, a job, according to Duo, that had the interest level equivalent to staring at mud.

"That's true, but until Trowa tells us to discontinue the mission, we're not moving from here, and we're going to continue with our respective tasks," Hilde said. "Suck it up, Duo."

Scowling, Duo muttered, "Right. Now can we forget the mission for a while and concentrate on Christmas? We still have decorating to do."

"You're the one who started talking about it."

Duo winced and held up a hand. "Fine. I surrender. I'm sorry for the mistletoe thing. Let's just get on with Christmas." He grinned at Heero, then at Hilde. "Hey, this would be our first Christmas as a team. Whom do you usually spend Christmas with?"

_No one,_ Heero almost said, _no one since Relena_. He had not cared to observe Christmas after that. The memories had been too strong, the emotions still fresh. Even now, when he thought they could no longer touch him, they were still there, unwilling to let go.

And as Heero glanced at the Christmas decorations in the bookstore, at the mistletoe and the hollies, he knew he would not be able to escape the memories this time.

It was going to be a long, long Christmas.

--------

"What's wrong?" Heero took one of her bare hands in his, entwining their fingers together. His eyes narrowed when he felt how cold and stiff her hand was. He tightened his grip. He and Relena had agreed to meet in a nearby store on the day before Christmas. When he went there he had found her standing outside the store, a troubled look on her face.

"_Oh, no. Nothing's wrong," Relena said, smiling at him. Relena looked different under the moonlight–pale and beautiful, but the halo of light seemed to crown her in sadness and grief. Snowflakes melted in her hair, a faint blush on her cheeks. Her cream-colored sweater and white skirt contrasted sharply with her dark sable coat, making her look like an angel with black wings. _

_Heero absently tucked a stray golden lock behind her ear. They stood still for a moment, and then she tugged his hand, urging him forward. "Let's go. It'll get colder soon." _

_They walked quietly to Relena's house, Relena leading the way. Watching with hooded eyes, Heero noted that she seemed preoccupied, glancing neither left or right as they made their way through the snowy streets, a distant look in her eyes. Her sable coat fluttered as a slight breeze passed by. _

"_Is this the first Christmas you'll be celebrating after your parents died, Heero?"_

_Heero stared at the back of Relena's head. Snow continued to fall from the dark sky, dusting Relena's hair and fur coat with pale white flakes. His hand itched to brush them away. "Yes."_

"_My family died in a fire on Christmas Eve." She didn't face him as she spoke, so he could not see her face. "I wasn't home. I was still at the church, helping with the cleanup. I was in the Christmas play that year. I played as a lamb, would you believe that?" _

"_A lamb?" Heero frowned, trying to picture Relena as a child, dressed as a lamb. Instead, he saw her coming home, still in her costume, and finding nothing but ashes. _

_Relena didn't seem to hear him. "I miss my family, especially on Christmas. I feel lonely without them, sometimes." She abruptly stopped walking. "Do you miss your family, too, Heero?" _

_Heero paused in mid-step. Why did she want to know? Strange she would talk about their respective parents, a topic they rarely discussed, though they were both orphans. She had never asked about his feelings on anything before, most of the time because she already knew what he felt. "Relena…"_

"_Do you ever get lonely, Heero?" This time, Relena glanced over her shoulder as she asked. She had a strange expression on her face, looking like she was expecting him to answer._

"_Not anymore," Heero finally said after a moment of silence. _

_Relena laughed. "I'll never get a straight answer from you, will I?" She grinned when he scowled at her. "Oh, well. It was worth a try." She resumed walking._

_Still scowling, he followed her, but they only made a few steps when Relena whirled around, snowflakes dancing in her golden hair. She laid one hand on Heero's chest and looked up, blue eyes unnaturally bright. Heero controlled a start of surprise when Relena suddenly grabbed his coat's lapels, pulled him down, and pressed her lips against his._

_Ice. Her lips were ice, so cold they almost seemed to burn against his lips. But as the kiss deepened, the ice became fire, and all Heero could feel was heat and warmth. _

_The kiss was nothing like the one they shared under the mistletoe a few days ago. The kiss was as fierce and demanding as the last kiss had been gentle and chaste. _

_Relena slowly drew away from the kiss, both of them panting for breath as their lips pulled apart. Then she smiled. "I love you," she said softly. "Thank you for spending Christmas with me."_

_Heero touched her cheek. "Relena…what's wrong?"_

"_Nothing." Her smile widened. "Nothing at all. I'm just…very happy." She removed her hands from his coat and turned her back to him. "Let's go. I'll still have to cook, you know."_

Frowning, Heero watched her leave. Relena was being very cryptic today. He shoved his hands into his leather jacket's pockets, feeling a slight thrill of anticipation when one his hands brushed against the velvet-covered box inside one of the pockets.

_Suppressing his doubts for now, he started walking and followed Relena._

**T.B.C.**

**Author's note:** Please be reminded that killing the author or injuring her in any way will or might result in the discontinuation of her stories. So hold your horses! And put down your knives! XD

And on a random note, why is it that when I was writing this, I have this feeling that the characters are speaking English with a British accent? How odd.

I so need to work on my atmosphere.

And yes, in the flashbacks, Heero and Relena are already in a relationship. How they ended together is just some of the things you'll have to wait for it to find out.

And I wonder if anyone noted the little clues I put in the story. XD

**The poem:** Uhm, random poem I put in. It's a creepy poem. It doesn't seem to have any connection to the story right now, but one day, I'll probably find a way to make sense of it. XD

**On Dracula's sword:** There is such a sword. The blade was given to Dracula's father when he was invested with the Order of the Dragon. Local folklore has it that the sword was eventually given to Dracula, along with the medallion/necklace bearing the seal/heraldry of the Order of the Dragon. We don't know what happened to the sword. It was said to have been found when what was believed to be Dracula's tomb in Snagov was opened, but was stolen or something. I'm not claiming complete factual accuracy, but I did do a bit of research.

**Winter:** I live in the Philippines. We do not have snow…all I know about snow comes from movies, books, and various electronic media. I researched as hard as I can about this. If there are any factual inconsistencies, feel free to tell me.

Comments and Criticism are most welcome and appreciated. Flames will burn.


	2. Déjà vu part 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not claim to own Gundam Wing.

**Author's notes:** sigh Finally, after more than a year, the second part. Anyway, this two-part is a **prequel/teaser** of sorts to an upcoming AU 1 x R fic of mine, _Crimson Drowning_. If the title hasn't clued you in, it's about vampires and vampire hunters. Yes, I am a vampire fan. No, I'm not a vampire.

**Pairings:** Heero x Relena and slight Duo x Hilde.

**Warnings:** **Lemony-lime**. And fluff. (OMG. I wrote fluff! I've never written fluff!)

**Summary:** A.U. Heero, Hilde, Duo are vampire hunters sent undercover to a small town. Heero's cover is working in a bookshop, and Duo suggests they decorate the store for the holiday season. And where does Relena enter in the story? I guess you'll have to read to find out. Oh, this is mostly done in Heero's POV.

For **Caliborn** and **Andrea**, my UA co-conspirators! And for **Morrighan**, one of my bosses at Club Beer. Last but not the least, **Blackrose**, for the wonderful book on New England.

**Déjà vu (part 2)**

"_Fine. Be Mr. Scrooge. Don't blame me if your ghosts come haunting back."_

The Ghost of Christmas Past has haunted Heero before, many, many times, and in many, many guises, but today, it was as relentless and spiteful as the heavy snows that fell that Christmas Eve, seven years ago.

The weather had turned for the worse by the time they reached Relena's home. Icy, snow-heavy winds swirled around them, tugging at their clothes viciously. When they finally went inside the apartment and out of their boots, it was already dark. Heero was shivering, but Relena, thanks to her coat, remained well-insulated, though she was just as covered with snow as he was.

Flipping up the switch, Relena laughed when he saw how he looked. "Like a snow-covered squirrel," she said, grinning.

She looked glorious, though, with her golden hair and her red cheeks, eyes bright with excitement. Heero felt desire rise within him as he remembered the fierce kiss she'd given him earlier. She'd been so passionate it both alarmed and pleased him at the same time.

The apartment was pleasantly warm, and it soon its heat warmed Heero as well. He shook the snow off his jacket, but did not leave it by the rack and instead kept it with him, slinging it over his shoulder. He wanted the jacket by his side at all times.

"I'm doing a bit of cleaning," Relena said as she hung her sable cloak on a hanger perched on one of the rack's hooks, "so the apartment's a little bare today. I even had some of the furniture cleaned." She grinned. "The only things left to me are my bed and my kitchen, and a few chairs and cabinets."

"Cleaning on Christmas season?" Heero asked as his eyes swept over the room, noting the missing sofa, tables, and chairs, and the empty cabinets. Relena had really gone all out with her cleaning. _She never did believe in half-measures. _

"Silly, isn't it? I'll probably take more than a week before I get them back."

"Where did you put all your books?" Heero asked. He looked around again. He'd been in Relena's apartment many times over, and it was strange to see it bare of furniture and books.

"Oh, the books? I have them packed in a box, and left them with Mrs. Thompson, one of my neighbors."

"I see."

She smiled at him and patted a tall, wooden stool just beside a small, empty cabinet. "Why don't you sit down here and wait while I get dinner prepared?" She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, her lips accidentally touching his lip as she pulled away.

That was when Heero's control snapped.

Relena was about to go to the kitchen, but Heero grabbed her by the arm and pulled her against him. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his face against her hair. "Don't go."

He felt her tense for a moment, and then she took a deep breath, relaxing in his embrace. "Heero," she said in a quiet voice, "I still need to cook."

His lips brushed against the nape of her neck, and he could feel her shiver against him. "I'm not hungry for food." He tightened his hold around her and then, with one swift movement, he swept her off her feet and into his arms.

"HEERO!" Relena cried out, legs flailing in the air as Heero carried her, taking her to her bedroom. His bare feet made loud thumping noises as he crossed the wooden floors. She let out a rush of breathless laughter. "What are you doing? Let me down. We're supposed to have Christmas dinner!"

"This is your fault," he told her calmly, ignoring Relena's struggles.

"_My_ fault?"

Kicking the door shut behind him, he lowered her to the floor, but kept his arms about her. "Your fault," he repeated in a deadpan voice. "You should have not kissed me like that."

She looked up at him, eyes half-closed. Heero's breath quickened at how beautiful she looked like that, even in the darkness, pale and delicate in his arms. His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her face closer. He kissed her gently on her lips. "I want you," he said quietly.

She opened her eyes. "It's dark in here," she said. She pulled away from him, and she went to her bedside table, and turned on the lamp that stood beside a Cupid statue, illuminating the room in its dim glow. Then she turned to Heero, who was watching her intently.

She walked towards him, her steps slow and measured. Heero stood still, until she was finally in front of him. "No," she said softly, tilting her head slightly, as if she was thinking about something, "I should have not kissed you like that."

"Let me," she said in a quiet voice, her fingers dancing against his throat, "then show you how I should have kissed you." Spellbound by the sudden desire in her eyes, Heero barely nodded, and with a wicked smile, Relena began to undress him. She first took his jacket off his shoulder, throwing it carelessly to the floor with a soft thump.

Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, placing soft little kisses on the patches of flesh being revealed. She could feel her smile as he gave a soft hiss when her lips brushed against his nipple. "Relena–"

"Heero," she said softly, her breath warm against his bare skin. "It's okay."

Then her hands drifted to his pants, fingertips ghosting over the rising mound of heat. With a brief tug, she had his belt off, then his buttons, and with a sharp pull, his pants and his underclothes. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him to the bed, making him sit on its edge.

Heero watched with fascination as Relena undressed herself before him, each movement smooth and graceful, slow and teasing, as if she was seducing him with every article of clothing she removed from her body. She had never been like this before, in all the times they had made love. The aggressive change in her made his heart race with anticipation and, for heartbeat, fear.

This was how he wanted to remember that night. It was Christmas Eve, and the woman he loved stood in front him, bare skin aglow against the lamp's light. He reached out to touch her hair, running his fingers through them, and then encircling her in his arms. He drew her against him, and they tumbled into her bed, Relena on top of him, her long hair a golden curtain that shielded their faces from the outside world.

He lay flat on his back for a moment, content at looking at her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were shining. Then he leaned over to kiss her. She tasted of wine, of sugar and spices, warm and intoxicating. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing against a nipple. He felt her moan into the kiss, and he slipped in his tongue, savoring the taste of her.

She then pulled away and sat up, almost straddling him. He closed his eyes as her hands began to move all over his body, touching and stroking him.

"I want you," she said simply as her hands wrapped around him. He groaned at the touch. Then she looked at him straight in the eyes. "This," she said slowly, "should be how I kissed you." She then bent her head, her long hair brushing against his stomach, tickling him. By the time he realized what Relena meant to do, it was too late.

Heero breathed in sharply as Relena's warm mouth engulfed him. He trembled as her lips slid back and forth against his length. All coherent thought fled from his mind, except for one: the knowledge that Relena was doing _this_ to him. "Relena," he said in a hoarse voice as he tangled his hands into her hair, twisting and breathless in his pleasure.

He could feel the heat building within him, and he almost exploded then and there, but Relena pulled away at the last moment, leaving him hanging on the edge. He managed to sit up, wrap his arms around her and ask, "Relena, what–"

"Hush," she whispered in his ear. He could feel her tremble in his arms, hear the rapid heartbeat in her chest (or was it his?). They were so melded together in the feverish heat of their bodies and passion that he could not tell which was his and which was hers. But it did not matter. Not now. Not ever.

"Let me love you, Heero. Just for tonight, please let me do this." And with a swift, sudden downward thrust, he was sheathed inside her.

Heero thought he would die then, so overwhelmed he was. But then she moved.

"_Relena!"_

There were so many things he wanted to cherish that night, to remember, but what he wanted to remember the most was how hot, wet, and tight Relena was around him as she rode him, how sweet the pain he felt as she raked her fingers across his back in her passion, and how her flesh tasted of salt and honey when he bit her on her shoulder as he finally came inside her. How exquisite it all felt then, how right, and how perfect.

But want he wanted was never meant to be.

They collapsed on the bed, and for several moments, Heero was content to listen to the sounds of their breathing, to feel her damp skin against his, to smell the scent of rosemary in her hair. But the night wasn't over. He still had something to do.

Gently disentangling himself from Relena, he rolled over and reached for his coat, which Relena had dropped haphazardly near the bed. From the corner of his eye, he could see Relena eyeing him a puzzled look.

Face hidden by the shadows, he slowly drew out the velvet box in his jacket and opened it. "My Christmas gift to you. Merry Christmas, Relena."

Relena looked at the ring, eyes wide. Against the lamp's dim light, the solitaire diamond caught fire, a spark of brilliant reds and yellows in the darkness. She stared at it for a moment before she tore her gaze away

"It belonged to my mother. It was her engagement ring." He watched her face, gauging her reaction. Her blue eyes widened even more, then she flickered another quick glance at the ring, hands trembling slightly. "It's…beautiful," she said softly, touching it with her fingertips. He felt her take a deep breath, her chest expanding underneath his hand.

"Heero–"

Heero took her hand in his, and said in his gentlest voice, "Will you marry me, Relena?"

_Come live with me and be my love/And we will with all the pleasures prove…_Did the shepherd wait so long for his nymph's reply? Heero never knew what waiting for an eternity meant until then.

"Heero, I–" Relena began, her lips curving to a small, sad smile. Even her eyes were sad and troubled. "We're only eighteen. We still have college. We have our whole life ahead of us. We have all the time in the world." Her voice caught at the last words.

Heero touched her cheek, finding it moist and soft to touch. "And I want to spend all it with you. No one else."

Something flickered in Relena's eyes, something Heero didn't understand. "You will–no–_we_ will be together. But marriage is not something–oh Heero, being married to you would be wonderful, but we're so young!" Relena slid out of Heero's arms and out of the bed. She stood beside it, her naked body and her hair golden against the lamplight. Her pendant seemed to turn black against the light as it swung back and forth about her neck as she moved. "I do want to be with you forever, I do, I do, you can't imagine how much, but–"

"But what, Relena?" Something black and sick twisted inside Heero, sharpening his voice.

She glanced away and gazed at the writhing shadows, black and gray against the bare walls. "Right now, we are but shades of our true selves." She looked at him, eyes bright. "We're chasing shadows, Heero. I love you. Always. We love each other. Isn't that enough?"

"Should it be?"

A sigh escaped her lips. "We don't need to be married to be together, Heero."

"It doesn't have to be right now." His eyes narrowed, suspicions forming in his mind. "Or do you already have plans of your own?"

To her credit, Relena did not look away. She lifted her chin. "Yes."

And with that one word, Relena destroyed his world. For a moment, Heero's whole being went numb, and he could not mover or think.

She wrapped her arms around her, as if she was cold and needed warmth. "I have to leave soon. There are things I have to do." Before Heero could ask her where and why, her eyes softened, and she said, "If you ask me to stay with you, I will. But I will not marry you." Relena's voice was barely a whisper. "Please, Heero, if you truly love me, don't ask me to stay. Don't make me hate you."

"And what about me, Relena?" Placing the ring on the bed, Heero stalked closer to her, his whole body tense with anger and fear. "Is this why you insisted on spending Christmas together? Is that what this is all about? Because it's going to be our last?" His hands reached out to grab her by the shoulders, the desire to shake some sense into her almost overwhelming him.

Relena took a few steps back, arms lashing out and knocking off the statue on the nightstand. It crashed on the floor, shattering into a several pieces of white porcelain. The shards gleamed wickedly in candlelight, sharp and dangerous to touch.

"Look what you've made me do!" Relena stared at the broken statue in dismay for a moment, then turned to a grim-faced Heero. Picking her way around the shards, she stepped closer to him. "Whether it was going to be our last Christmas or not didn't matter. I wanted us to spend Christmas together. I thought you wanted that, too." She bit her lip and looked away. Then she began to weep, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Heero had tried to remain impassive the whole time they were arguing, to stop the rage and pain he felt inside, but the sight of Relena's tears undid him. Relena never cried; he never thought of her as someone who did. "Relena–" His throat was tight and dry, but he forced himself to speak again. "Whatever your reasons are, I don't want you to go. I want you to stay with me."

Relena's sobs stilled, and then she turned to him. Their eyes met, and for a moment Heero saw a hardness in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by an expression of infinite sadness. "I don't want to go, Heero, but I have to. But as you asked me to stay," she reached out and gently cupped his cheek, "then I will."

Startled at her sudden capitulation to his wishes, Heero opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Relena held up her palm, then put a finger against his lips. "No more, Heero. I've given my word. I'll stay, for you. That's the end of the matter." She then drew away, and stood still in the darkness, shadows writhing around her. Her eyes glittered strangely as she continued, "After all, promises are meant to be kept, aren't they?"

Then she slid beside him on the bed, her warm body pressing against his own cold one, and gently kissed his cheek. "Let's not talk about this anymore. I promise, tomorrow, Christmas morning, things will be better." Then she kissed him fiercely on the mouth, like she did before, out in the snow, so Heero did not ask her any more. A strange, lethargic warmth settled over him, calming his emotions and soothing his doubts. Heero let himself drown in it. She had promised, and Relena kept her promises, always. It was enough.

_I believed her. I was young then, naïve, and in love. I loved her. She told me she loved me. She promised to stay. But I should have known. _

When sun rose on that Christmas Day, and Heero woke up, he was alone. The snows have stopped falling outside, and the sound of silence filled his world. There was no one else in the room, save only a shattered statue on the floor, a cold ring by the bedside table, and a chair draped with a cream-colored sweater that smelled thickly of the bittersweet bite of sweat, sex, and most of all, of her–of them.

Relena was gone

------

_There are haunters of the silence, ghosts that hold the brain and heart:_

_In the mansion of my being they have placed a room apart:_

_There I hear their spectre raiment, see their shadows on the floor,_

_Where the raven, Sorrow, darkens Love's pale image o'er my door._

"Where are the other decorations?" Duo said, his head buried in one of the boxes on the floor. When he lifted his head to look at Heero, there were bits of glitter stuck on his hair.

Heero gave a grunt, and shifted in his seat. He glared at Duo, suddenly at him for causing all the painful memories to surface. "It's in the attic. Isn't the decorations enough?"

Duo pointed at the medium-sized pine tree that would serve as their Christmas tree, its branches bare of decorations. "That tree's as bald as an egg." He stood up and dusted the glitter off his head. "Give me the keys and I'll get it."

"I'll go with you."

Duo raised his eyebrows. "You're helping us with the decorations?"

"You won't be able to bring them all down on your own, and I don't want you breaking them." Heero rose from his chair, ignoring the scowl Duo gave him.

Heero tugged the sleeves of his sweater again, adjusting it for the umpteenth time. He should really throw this old thing, had tried to several times, but he always changed his mind at the last minute.

With a sharp tug, he pulled his sweater over his head, and laid it on the chair. The attic was dusty; it wouldn't do to get the sweater dirtied.

Heero grimaced at his thoughts. What a fool he was, even after all these years.

"Let's go," he said sharply, ignoring the sudden stab of pain in his chest. Duo and Hilde exchanged why-the-hell-is-he acting-like-a-lunatic glances. Heero ignored that too. Then he headed for the stairs, not looking back to check if Duo was following him or not.

-------

"Oh damn, I missed it!"

Relena stared at the 'closed' sign hung crookedly on the bookstore's picture window with dismay. She had run non-stop from her apartment to this place to catch it open before closing time, but all her efforts had been for nothing. She could feel the heat on her cheeks as she panted for breath, snowflakes swirling about her, melting in her hair.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold, sweet air. Then she sighed. It looked like she'd have to find the books she needed elsewhere. Christmas was just a few hours away, and she really, really needed to prepare her gifts for tomorrow for her colleagues. She checked her watch, and was relieved she still had an hour or so left to find another shop before they closed.

_All this for Christmas gifts. I could be home sitting by a warm fire, but no, I'm here, shopping outside in this godforsaken winter weather, freezing my fingers off. How could I have forgotten my gloves? And why hadn't I shopped earlier?_

She glanced at the bookstore again. The lights were still on, and she could hear faint voices from inside. Maybe she still had a chance. Fingertips tingling at the icy feel of the glass, she cupped her hands over the frosted window as she peered into the store.

There was a girl inside. Relena recognized her immediately–Hilde, the slight, black-haired girl who was in her class a week or so back, before Christmas vacation started. That was a good sign.

Relena went to the door and rapped her fingers sharply against the glass. She waved her hands when Hilde turned to her. She pointed at the locked door, mouthing the question "can I come in?" in an exaggerated manner as she did.

"Professor D! What can we do for you? Come inside so you'll be warm," Hilde said as she opened the door, chimes tinkling cheerily as she did. Relena quickly stepped into the store. Behind her, she heard Hilde close door, turning the lock with sharp click.

"I'm terribly sorry," Relena said, "but I was wondering if you're still open. There's some stuff I need to buy." She smiled sheepishly, and then grimaced. "Last-minute Christmas shopping. Christmas can be so troublesome."

Hilde smiled. "You and the bookstore owner would get along well. He doesn't like Christmas, too."

"He doesn't?" Relena glanced at the store decorations, at the wreath of hollies and pinecones, the Christmas lights, and at the mistletoe hanging on a post above her head. A strangely familiar setting, like she'd been here before. It only took her a heartbeat to realize why.

The bookstore was different, of course, Pagan's was bigger, and so were the time and location, but still…how long had it been since she last stood under the mistletoe on Christmas season in a bookstore? Had it been nearly seven years? She'd been so young and naïve then, and so much in love.

"He did a good job in decorating, though," she said idly. Despite her own reservations, she let her eyes wander further into the store, noting the books and other reading materials stacked neatly on the dust-free shelves like soldiers in the parade ground of old. In the cashier's booth, a tall stool sat empty, except for a familiar, well-worn, cream-colored sweater draped over it.

Relena caught her breath.

_Heero_.

And then she could not breathe, and her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird struggling in her captive's hands. Her hands sought the pendant underneath her clothes, her fingers curling around it, as if it were a talisman for protection. She was suddenly lost and far away, trapped in her memories, Hilde's voice a fading whisper behind her.

"Oh, we did the decorations. Duo managed to beg him to let us decorate the place. Christmas wouldn't be the same without them." Hilde looked over her shoulder, her gaze going to the spiraling staircase that led upstairs, then back at Relena. "Speaking of the owner, he's upstairs with Duo to get some stuff. He's closed for the day, but if you could wait for him, I'm sure–"

"Oh, no." Relena took a step back. She wanted to get away from this store and from the memories it invoked from her as soon as possible. Whether Heero was here or not, it did not matter. She didn't want to know, did not want to find out. _Stay in my memories longer, Heero. Stay there, and leave me alone. There are still promises I must keep._

"But," Hilde stared at her, looking confused, "don't you need to buy something?"

"It's okay." She spun on her heel, and made her way purposefully towards the door. She looked over her shoulder, smiled apologetically at Hilde, and added, "I'll just find something else to give the other professors. It's already late, and I need to go home. Thank you anyway." Before Hilde could say anything, Relena opened the door, stepped into the cold night and walked away, disappearing into the darkness, her sable coat fluttering in the breeze like raven's wings behind her.

------

Hilde watched Relena's retreating figure and wondered why the professor was so eager to leave. Was it something she said?

"Hilde? Was there someone here a while ago? We heard the bell," Duo said between grunts. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he and Heero were busy carrying boxes of Christmas decors down the spiral staircase. Heero didn't seem to find his load (which was a bigger box than Duo's) heavy, but Duo panted like a bellows.

Hilde sighed, closed the door, and looked with dismay at the dusting of snow near her feet. Now she had to sweep the floor again. "There was someone."

"Who was it? Was it that sadistic bastard, Trowa? Isn't that guy aware of holidays? I'm sure even whatever vampires are in this town are observing the holidays." Duo dropped his box on the floor with a dull thud. Heero gave him a sharp glance as a rebuke, and then carefully lowered his box on the floor.

"Would you stop calling our Keeper a sadistic bastard? It wasn't him. It was that professor of popular folklore I was talking about a while ago."

"Oh. Why was she here?"

"She was going to buy some books." Hilde glanced at Heero. "I told her to wait for you to come down, but she suddenly decided not to and left."

Heero said nothing, but Hilde noted his eyes were suddenly darker than usual, as if he were remembering something. It was the same look she'd seen in his eyes a while ago, when she and Duo talked about the mistletoe.

"Well, her loss." Duo pulled out some shiny Christmas balls from the box, grimacing at the sharp smell, acrid of mothballs. "Come on. It's only a few hours before Christmas, and we still have to make dinner, so let's move!"

**-end of Déjà vu-**

**Author's note:** I'm so evil, aren't I? I've been writing all smut stories this year!

And so, you'll have to wait for Crimson Drowning (CD) to know the full story behind this two-part prequel. I know some parts are very confusing (I should know, I got confused, too). I might change some stuff or instances though, in CD.

And if anyone hasn't gotten it, the sweater Heero had been wearing in the present time is the one Relena had left behind. XD

The first part was the one that was most difficult to write. The sex was easier.

**Where are the vampires?:** Ahahahaha. Guess. :winks:

**Crimson Drowning:** I know, I know. I'll post it as soon as I write it. When will that be…hmmm…maybe next month? Because I still have **Unexpected Arrangements** to write. XD And I have to work out the environment. I need that for atmosphere.

_Crimson's _actually an original story I'm working on; I'm using the fanfic as writing practice.

**Poems:** Seeing that Relena and Heero are book lovers in this fic…and quite passionate, I decided to include some bits of poems–for me one of the greatest literary ways to express emotions. Poem credits go to _Madison Cawein_, a poet of exceptional talent and imagery. It's an excerpt from **_Haunters of the Silence. _**Look for more of his poetry in in the poetry section. And if you don't know the line from Christopher Marlowe's and Sir Walter Raleigh's poems, by GOD, where have you been? READ!

**Flashbacks and lemon:** Sorry, just flashback lemon for you guys! But at least Relena was on top and aggressive. And yes, this wasn't a happy lemon. Andrea will kill me because of this, I'm sure.

Comments and Criticism are most welcome and appreciated. Flames will burn.


End file.
